


Cravings

by Amymel86



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Cravings, R plus L equals J, Smut, Wildlings - Freeform, king in the north
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: Sansa falls pregnant with Jon's child after their wedding night. She starts off feeling immensely irritated at him due to her hormones but those feelings of frustration soon change - SMUT ENSUES DONT WORRY - this is not a one shot :)





	1. Frustrations

**Author's Note:**

> After starting another fic where Sansa carries Ramsey's child, I've decided to do a similar one but with Jon's baby instead - the whole 'Ramsey's baby' situation wasn't for everyone (understandably) so I'm trying my hand at something a little lighter with this story :) 
> 
> I hope you like it!
> 
> As always please point out any typos you find so I can correct them :) 
> 
> Oh and they obviously already know they are cousins - hence the marriage.

It was all his fault. This feeling of not knowing her own skin, her own thoughts and reactions.

Of course it wasn't really all Jon's fault, but having him to aim her irritation at made her feel a slight bit better.

She was relieved when Maester Tarly originally told her that she was with child. That meant that they would not have to go through the awkwardness that was their wedding night again.

The act itself was no where near painful or terrifying as it had been with Ramsey, but this didn't stop Sansa from using the same techniques she'd learnt to distance herself from what was happening to her. Jon was sweet and gentle, as she always knew he would be. He was nervous though, perhaps more nervous than herself.

_Of course he would be nervous, he's never had to do this - he's never had to try to detach his mind from his body, to float above what is happening and travel to another place, another time._

"Drink" Sansa had held a goblet out to him before she returned to refill her own for the third time "it will help".

Jon had taken the wine gratefully but Sansa noticed that there was still half left in the cup when Jon had left after the consummation of their marriage.

During the times when Ramsey had taken his rights with her, she had used her method of mental escape and sometimes, her mind had not returned until the following morning. With Jon though, she found her mind returning to her every now and again as if she needed to check on him, make sure he was alright in his task of duty. It was strange, to see him on top of her moving and breathing heavy.

She knew he would try to make it as comfortable as possible for her. He'd even asked with a red face if she wanted him to 'ready' her. Sansa declined, she'd never been 'readied' before and although she knew it was meant to make the act more comfortable - pleasurable even, for the woman, she was wary of new things in the scenery of the marriage bed. No - she'll stick to what she knows. Soon it will all be over and they wouldn't need to engage in this act again until they'd decided to have heirs.

Jon hadn't leant much of his weight upon her, their bodies only joining where necessary. He kept his eyes trained forward on the headboard and Sansa had briefly wondered what or who he thought of to get through this. Perhaps he was imagining his Wildling lover who had perished at Castle Black. Thormund had told her she had had red hair and Sansa wondered if her own copper locks were a comfort or torture to him.

There were a few days of awkwardness between them after that night but they soon fell back into their comfortable friendship and joint rulership, both of them seeming to be willing to forget what they had done for duty.

Three moons from that night she told him her news of the babe growing in her belly. Jon seemed as relieved as she had felt. If the child was a healthy son, then they need not put themselves through the awkward duty again..... Of course it would be more secure for their house should they have more children, but they'll discuss that at a far away future date.

Her sickness came and went as Maester Tarly said it would. Jon was kind and understanding, making sure she was comfortable and that she relinquished her most taxing duties to him so that she could get as much rest as needed.

She found that feeling the icy air on her face did wonders at keeping the nausea at bay. Jon would often rearrange his many meetings so that he could accompany her on walks about the Godswood. He'd chuckled when she confessed that what she really wanted to do was to eat some fresh river ice - that she felt the need to experience the cold in her mouth and down her throat. That next day her morning cup of water featured chunks of ice floating in it.

"His Grace rode out to the Wolfswood to retrieve the ice from the river himself". Her handmaid explained with a beaming smile. Sansa supposed the young girl thought it romantic.

But now, now that the sickness and nausea had all but subsided, all she felt was immense irritation. She snapped at her maids, she lost her temper with the grooms who hadn't plaited her horse's mane just so, she tutted at serving girls who clunked her food down in front of her in an ungraceful manner, she saw red at council meetings when her concerns and comments weren't being listened to, but the one person that seemed to make her snap, roll her eyes, clench her fists, tut and holler more than anyone else was Jon.

She nearly always apologised, it wasn't really his fault after all, but the way he would dismiss her apology, saying that it was just a side effect of her condition, was almost enough to make her temper flair once more. What would the King in the North know of her condition? Likely he had spoken with Maester Tarly as to why she was acting so. Men - they could always sweep things away with clean, simple, logical explanations - they knew nothing!

It was with this attitude in mind that she asked Jon if she could accompany him to the nearby Wildling settlement. Sansa knew that the Free Folk had a different way of dealing with the delicacy of pregnancy and child birth. She'd heard that expectant woman would rally together in their community, help one another and would be lead and guided by an experienced matriarch of sorts. Sansa wanted to experience this community, and in the absence of her Mother, she felt the need to learn what she should expect in the moons to come.

This is how she came to find herself in a dark cozy hut, sat about a low flickering fire in the centre with three Wildling women.

There were two expectant mothers - Agatha, an experienced women with three babes already and nearing the end of her current pregnancy, sporting a large round belly. And Bridgette, experiencing her first pregnancy like Sansa but much further along with her small bump already showing through her many layers of furs. They both greeted her warmly but the most welcoming of the group was Old Magg. The woman was elderly by Wildling standards as they tended not to live as long as those tucked up in their warm castles and holdfasts but she still had an amazing youthful spirit about her weathered skin, and long greying hair.

"You are most welcome to join us Lady Sansa, I've not helped guide a kneeler before" Old Magg said as she smiled into the fire, poking it into a more animated life.

Sansa thanked her, she was surprisingly not at all annoyed at her improper use of Sansa's titles or being called a kneeler.

"Has your sickness past now"? The greying woman enquired.

"Yes... I'm feeling much better now that I can keep my food down" Sansa supplied.

"Lucky you" Agatha chirped "during my last babe I could hardly keep anything down until he left my belly..... He's still giving me the most trouble out of the three now" she chuckled, rubbing her round stomach.

"Aye... All babes are different in how they affect you while they grow" Magg added. "Are you experiencing anything else Lady Sansa"? She said with kindness in her eyes.

"Please, just call me Sansa" Magg nodded and emplored her to continue with a smile.

"Well.... I don't know if it's worth noting but.... I've been.... I've been terribly... Angry.... All the time" Sansa's hands fidgeted with her skirts. Agatha snorted, Bridgette nodded knowingly.

"Ah yes" Magg acknowledged "don't fight it....irritation needs to come out...us Free Folk tend to hunt or fight until the rage leaves us.... I don't suppose your fine kneeler traditions would allow you that privilege"?

Sansa looked at all three woman, a little shocked at the thought of them fighting in their conditions. From what she remembered of her Mothers pregnancies, she was practically wrapped up and protected from any chance of harm.

"N...no.... I.... I just seem to snap at everyone.... I shout quite a bit" Sansa confessed, looking down at her lap, her hands still busying themselves by tracing the embroidery on her dress.

"Well then!... By all means - snap! Shout! Stomp around in your pretty skirts and demand to be heard"! Magg said, slapping her knee. Sansa looked at her incredulously.

"But... But I feel as though I'm acting like a petulant child"! Sansa argued, a little embarrassed to acknowledge her behaviour.

"And you don't think your husband will act the child when he's handed the screaming pink bundle after it leaves your body? You don't think he'll be reduced to a scared little boy who's been thrust into the responsibility of fatherhood"? Magg explained.

"Jon's the King.... He knows responsibility" Sansa countered.

"Aye.... But he's never experienced this kind.....King or not - it'll knock him down a peg or two - mark my words girl" Magg chuckled.

"My Jorge was petrified at the birth of our first little one" Agatha added "he went on a five day hunt all by himself the silly sod" she chuckled to herself at the memory.

"Tell me Sansa" Magg leant forward "is the majority of your frustrations aimed at your Jon"?

"Well...yes...most of it" Sansa said in a small voice. Magg and Agatha shared a conspiratory smile. "I feel terribly awful about it... It's not fair on him really".

"Oh don't you worry about that child" the firelight flickered across Magg's mischievous looking features "you'll be making it up to him soon enough" she grinned.

"Yes - quite a bit" Agatha barked, holding her belly as it bounced while she indulged in a hearty laugh.

Sansa was confused. "When the babe comes you mean"?

"Oh no - that is a gift in itself, it's true - but you'll be making it up to him a lot sooner than that with your own cravings". Magg smiled.

"Cravings? I've been wanting to consume a lot of ice lately but I don't see..."

"Not those kinds of cravings my Lady" Agetha cut off her words "not food" she grinned knowingly.

Sansa looked back to the fire, trying to comprehend what the women meant.

"You'll crave your husband my child" Magg said, placing a hand upon Sansa's. Her hand was rough but warm and comforting.

"A lot" Agatha added.

"But.... Jon and I..." Sansa shook her head, looking each woman in the eye "we're not...we didn't..." Her words wouldn't come.

"You didn't give yourself to him in the name of love... Or lust"? Magg said knowingly.

Bridgette looked confused. "But then why -"?

"We had to.... We had to marry....for the stability of the North and our House.... We wed out of duty" Sansa explained in a small voice. She suddenly felt envious of these women, sharing their furs with men they had chosen to love.

"You managed to make the growing babe in your belly without too much trouble" Agatha commented, nodding her head towards Sansa's stomach. "Besides, he's a pretty sight, your King husband... I doubt you'll have much difficulty in knowing him in that way" she raised her brows.

"Jon and I... It's... It's not like that" Sansa protested weakly.

"It doesn't matter my child" Magg said in a comforting tone, her hand still over Sansa's "your body will want what it wants.... And that will be him.... Each woman with child is different and I've witnessed many different effects of growing a babe but this pattern - "she gestured to Sansa "the irritation you feel towards him - it's always followed by a different kind of frustration all together".

"I couldn't get enough of Jorge when I was with my second" Agatha interjected "I'm pretty sure that was the only reason he consented to a third and now this little one" she smiled down at her belly "he was hoping of more of the same" she nudged Bridgette beside her before they both fell into a titter of laughter.

Their laughter was interrupted by the noise of someone clearing their throat at the entrance of the tent. They all turned to see Jon standing there.

"Ladies" he bowed. "We are about to leave Sansa... I... Ah...thought I would accompany you out of the settlement... If you have need of me"? He held his elbow out for Sansa to take. He was unsure of himself - as he was most of the time these days, what with Sansa's constant temper aimed in his direction.

"Oh she'll 'have need of you' alright" Agatha quipped. All three wildlings descended into a cackle of laughter. Jon looked confused. Sansa blushed but couldn't help a small smile in the direction of the ladies before she rose and took his arm.

Sansa was extremely quiet on the ride back to the castle. Lost in her thoughts and her sideways glances at Jon.

 


	2. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa has quite the imagination.

Sansa studied her reflection in the full length mirror after her maids had dressed her and pinned back her hair. Turning to the side, she skimmed her still slim stomach with a gentle hand and pressed into it slightly - no bump was appearing yet but there was definitely a firmness that had not been there before.

Her eyes went back to her face. Since they'd announced that they were expecting a babe, nearly everyone had commented on how she looked to be 'glowing' or 'radiant' - Sansa didn't feel either of those things, the image of herself met her as it always did, she saw no difference.

The words of the Old Magg and Agetha bounced around her head since they'd returned from their visit to the Free Folk three days ago. She'd made much more of an effort not to snap at Jon since - reasoning with herself that if she could squash this current impulse of hers to chide him like a child, then Magg's prediction of her next impulse may never come to fruition.

Jon had noticed her efforts and commented that perhaps he could accompany her to the Free Folk to visit Magg on a regular basis, as it seemed to have settled her nerves. He was relieved not to be on the receiving end of her lashings any more. Sansa agreed on the visits - she wanted to talk to Magg more and liked the openness of the way the Wildlings spoke.

" _You'll crave your husband my child"._

Sansa studied her face in the reflection more closely. 'Crave' - that's what Magg had said - she will 'crave' Jon. The word stuck funnily in her mind when she thought of the act that the Wildling woman implied Sansa would 'crave'. She'd never considered that ladies would lust to that degree - those feelings and actions were reserved for men and wanton women - would she become wanton? The thought scared her a little as she wasn't entirely sure what that would entail.

No - the activities of the marital bed were to be tolerated and endured by wives - not actively sought after. Sansa sniffed at her reflection and pulled her spine up straight. She would not become wanton, she was sure.

That was all two week ago now. Jon had accompanied her to see Magg twice since her first visit and each time Sansa tried to convince the woman that she was wrong, that Sansa could never have those feelings for Jon. She went over and over how they had been raised as siblings and yes - she had great affection for him, loved him even, but it was how one loves a close family member and nothing more. Magg didn't say much to contradict her but her knowing smile gave her away many a time.

 

******

The good news was that Sansa no longer needed to try quite so hard to temper her anger towards Jon - or anyone as a matter of fact. Sansa giggled to herself as she imagined the whole castle collectively breathe a sigh of relief. The bad news was that something....else.....was building inside her.

The first indication was her increased need to touch herself at night to get to sleep. Sansa had indulged in the act before, but to no great frequency. During the past week she'd done so each and every night. She'd fought it something rotten at the beginning, thinking that this was a gateway to becoming that wanton woman she was afraid to be. She tossed and she turned. She tried to read until her eyes were drooping, she even tried getting up and walking out into the fresh air for a few minutes but nothing worked to quell her need to peak and sleep would not take her until she had.

Still, even though she followed through with these base urges, they'd taken shape in exactly the same way each time - as they always had before. She would find that curious bundle of nerves with the flat of her forefinger and middle finger, rubbing herself in slow circles with constant pressure. Her mind never wandered - it was trained solely on the building pleasure until it crashed over her and she could melt into her bed and welcome sleep.

It changed rather suddenly one day. Sansa and Jon were in their solar during the afternoon. The light came through the window in streaks, making the dust particles in the air dance and then disappear where they hit the shade once more. Sansa was sat at Jon's desk, in his chair, looking over a map. Jon was trying to locate a new area for a Wildling settlement - some Free Folk currently at the Gift had decided that they wanted to migrate further south (as south as possible before hitting The Neck) and asked his permission for new lands. Jon had not consented just yet but was willing to consider.

As her husband looked out of the window behind her with a far away glaze to his eyes, indicating that he was not looking at the view, but merely ticking things over in his head - Sansa sat in his dark oak chair, smoothing the map out in front of her and running her fingers over the familiar place names.

Jon suddenly turned and came up behind her. With one hand splayed onto the map and one gripping the back of her chair, he leant down over her to get a better look at the old fraying parchment. Sansa felt the heat from his body - Jon always seemed warm and she wondered if it were the dragon in him. He smelt good too - more than good - like leather and musk, it was heady and she wanted to lean into it, let it wrap around her so that she would always experience that aroma wherever she went. Jon was talking - to her or himself she wasn't sure. She wasn't listening. She was transfixed by his large hand as it moved across the map, pointing out places and areas here and there. They were the hands of a man who had fought all his life, who wasn't afraid to get dirtied from hard work or bloodied from battle. She had a sudden urge to reach out her own hand and place it atop of his - to gauge the size difference and the contrast of his rough with her smooth - he would dwarf her in this comparison she was sure.

"Sansa"? Jon's voice pierced through her foggy thoughts "are you well?"

She looked up at him - when had his face gotten so close? He looked concerned. "I'm fine Jon.... Just.... Distracted".

This seemed to placate him a little and he went back to looking at the map and speaking words that Sansa still wasn't listening to. She studied his face as he did so. His eyes a familiar grey that outsiders might think of as steely and unfeeling but Sansa found them to be quite the opposite - to her they held warmth and kindness. They were flanked by more crinkles than they had been before - evidence of past genuine smiles he had given her.

She noted his scars - some ladies might find them marring and detracting but Sansa quite liked them - she wondered if that made her a little macabre in nature? Her eyes followed the line of his beard to his full lips as they moved, spilling words that were still not reaching her ears. Without warning she licked her own lips as she stared at his.

"Am I boring you my Lady"? Jon said with a hint of amusement in his voice at the sight of Sansa looking a little distant and dumbfounded.

"No...no... I.... I just need to lie down I think Jon... I feel terribly tired". She stood abruptly, pushing the chair back as she rose, causing Jon to straighten and take a step back to allow her to move.

If Jon answered her or commented in any way after that, then she did not hear it as she speedily made her way to her chambers.

*****

That night started no different to the others. She laid beneath her furs and tried for a while to drift off to sleep unaided. When she finally conceded that this would not work, she slipped her hand lower until she found the area she was looking for.

This time however, her mind did wander. Jon's scent, Jon's eyes, Jon's lips, Jon's hands.

She tried hard to make her mind blank, to think of only the pleasurable sensation between her legs but her thoughts were snagged on the large hand Jon had splayed across the map that day. Her traitorous mind began presenting scenarios to her - placing that hand on the small of her back, cupping her cheek, fisting her hair, kneading her breast, palming her thigh and finally replacing her own at its current ministrations. Her peak came fast and furiously - so furiously in fact that it left her panting and slightly clammy.

_Oh Gods! This is the start of it!_

*******

She tried to avoid Jon the next day but her efforts were fruitless. Ever the supportive husband, Jon was still concerned about her episode yesterday whilst looking over the map and sought her out several times during the day to check if she was in need of anything, or if he could help in any way. Sansa could not bring herself to look him in the eye as she reassured him that she was fine.

By the time the black of night fell about the castle, Sansa had resigned herself to the fact that her condition would rule her mind before she was allowed to sleep. She even came to terms that she would, once again, think of Jon as she pleasured herself.

_Perhaps if this is all I'm doing....if it's all just in my head.... That it would be enough?_

Her fingers fell into a familiar rhythm at the familiar position. She took a deep breath as she allowed her mind to wander and find mental images of Jon. But, this time, no matter how long she rubbed herself, no matter how much she deepened the pressure or sped up the movements, she just couldn't reach her release. She felt lacking. She needed more... More of what, she wasn't sure but she needed it.

Exhausted from the chase of her peak, she barely felt in control as her fingers wandered lower and pushed at her slick folds as a man's length might do. She'd never done this before - never felt the need or curiosity to, but it felt right... It felt good. As she pushed in and out slowly her mind conjured Jon's hand once again, she wondered how his larger calloused, but gentle fingers would feel doing this to her? He had once offered to 'ready' her before after all. These thoughts kept her gong for a while but soon her head turned to the other part of Jon that could enter her in such a way. She felt her cheeks flush and she wasn't sure if it was an automatic embarrassed reaction or from the pleasure building at her centre. She tried to remember what he'd felt like on her wedding night... She couldn't - she had blocked it from her mind at the time and try as she may, she could not unblock it. She supposed it was large - larger was always better wasn't it? But what constitutes as large where a man's sex is concerned? She felt the build of her peak slipping away as her mind scrambled to try and conjure something to recover it.

Extremely frustrated, she turned onto her stomach to bury her face in the feather pillow. Sansa was briefly tempted to scream into the softness.

Sleep came eventually, although it was light and she woke often. She felt positively exhausted come the morning.

*******

Ever since they'd found out about the babe, Jon had formed the frequent habit of breaking his fast privately with Sansa in their shared solar. This morning Sansa found herself unable to look him in the eye, felt her face grow hot whenever he spoke and she couldn't stop fiddling - with her dress, her food, her hair..... Their private time together had never been this awkward - not even when Jon was the source of her tide of irritation.

Try as she may, she could not stop her imagination from wandering.... And it seemed she had a good one....

_I could straddle him there on that chair..."Sansa - what are you doing"? He'd say... I'd hush his luscious mouth with my own before saying "I've missed you husband".... "Missed me"? He'd say... "But I have not left you... I will never leave you".... Once again I'd silence those sweet words of his with my lips - I wonder what his tongue tastes like?.... Frantically loosening his breeches would get his attention.... I'd want him to kiss me on my neck and possibly my bosom.... Steadying myself on his shoulders - Gods they look strong!....I'd...I'd impale myself on him and-_

"Sansa"? Jon's voice snapped her out of her sordid fantasy "are you well? You look very distant and flushed".

Before she had a chance to respond, Jon was up and by her side, placing his hand on her forehead.

His scent was there once again - leather and musk - it was too much - before Sansa knew it she was leaning into his touch and let out a small sigh while her eyes fluttered closed.

Jon knelt to be eye level with her. "I will fetch Sam for you Sansa - you feel rather hot.... And you've not seemed yourself - are you alright? Are your duties too demanding? Please let me know how I can help you - you needn't suffer".

_Oh I'll suffer alright! This bloody body of mine is seeing to that!_

"I....I didn't sleep well last night - I think I just need to rest" Sansa said weakly "please don't bother Maester Tarly.... Perhaps I could visit the Wildlings again? I find their words comforting... Please Jon"?

Jon could never deny Sansa anything when she pleaded so sweetly - Sansa knew this and somewhere in her mind the thought of pleading with him to help her alleviate her 'craving' flitted into creation before she swiftly dismissed it.

_I have to speak to Magg, Agatha and Bridgette - maybe they can suggest another way to abate this madness?_


	3. 'Strategically Placed Carrot'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for nothing in this chapter!!

~~~~"You could always do what Faylinn and Golda do...." Agatha said with laughter in her eyes.

"That's just rumours" Bridgette responded as all four women sat around the fire once more.

Sansa had endured another night   
much like the previous, and very much needed advice on how to squash these overwhelming thoughts and urges.

"What do they do"? She asked curiously - she thought perhaps they ingested some magical Wildling herb and she felt willing to try anything.

"Oh nothing..... Just frigg each other with vegetables" Agatha said nonchalantly as she bit into an apple.

Sansa's eyes widened "they.... What"?!

That earned a chuckle from the Wildling women. "Faylinn and Golda prefer the company of each other than any man my child" Old Magg explained "in the absence of a cock, they've had to....improvise"

"Oh" was all that Sansa could manage in response as she stared into the flames.

"Just don't cook with them after" Agatha barked in laughter. Sansa smiled and blushed.

She didn't like the idea of a vegetable being anywhere near her flower, but now that the subject had been raised, it stirred a memory of rumours she'd heard about some widowed ladies somehow procuring phallic shaped utensils made of clay or highly polished wood for use to alleviate their hysteria.

_How would I even go about getting one of those? Who would I ask? What the hell are they even called?! Useless._

"It won't do Sansa - a strategically placed carrot wouldn't aid what ails you child" Old Magg's words drew her attention away from the fire "that babe in your belly is part of you but also part of him....no amount of frigging or other lovers will stop your craving".

"Lovers?!... I'd.....I'd never do that to Jon" Sansa said, thoroughly shocked.

"But you won't let him help you through the cravings himself"? Magg asked with a raised brow.

"It's - "

"I know, I know - your relationship is not like that" Magg interrupted, one hand in the air in front of her to halt any more of Sansa's words. "Well perhaps that is why your cravings are coming on so strong - your unborn babe wants to solidify your relationship with its father"

"That's an odd thought" Sansa said almost to herself.

"How so"?

"That a child - a babe would want their mother participating in those.... Activities" Sansa wrinkled her nose.

"Every child would want their parents to be happy and there's no greater happiness than being in love" Magg said as she stoked the fire with a long stick. Agatha and Bridgette nodded in agreement.

"Do you think you could Sansa?.... Do you think you could fall in love with Jon"? Bridgette asked enthusiastically, her eyes shimmering and her head nodding as if she were willing a positive response from her.

"I........I think I could" the words were out and she couldn't take them back now - somehow it made her feel lighter. "But Jon....he doesn't see me like that". Sansa added, a small part of her stomach experiencing a sinking sensation.

All three Wildling women laughed in unison. "Oh Sansa! You can't see it? The man's besotted with you"! Agatha cried between her laughter. Sansa's brow furrowed in confusion. "We've only seen him a handful of times with you but if that's not a man in love, then I don't know what is"!

Sansa tried to make sense of Agatha's revelations.

_He's always been very kind to me.... But isn't that just his way? He's always got time for me.... But....oh I don't know!..... It COULD be true I suppose._

Magg leant forwards and comforted Sansa with her warm hand, as she had the habit of doing. "I don't doubt that both of you will be deep in love before the birth of this babe my child" she almost whispered directly to Sansa. "You have a piece of him inside you now, with this child" she moved her hand to lay it atop of Sansa's small belly "and once it leaves the safety of your body and is thrust into the world, a piece of him will remain" Magg's hand rested on her chest, above her heart. Sansa smiled at the thought.

After a long pause, Sansa had made a decision. "Alright..... How do I go about this.....how do I....." She couldn't find the words.

"Seduce him"? Agatha provided, a wide grin on her face. "I think he's already smitten - it shouldn't take much".

"Yes but we've never been like that" Sansa implored.

"Just show him your teats and arse - that normally does the trick" Agatha quipped again. Sansa rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile.

"Lady Sansa's more delicate than that" Bridgette started "smile at him often....touch him even more often....tuck yourself close to him when you two walk together..." She smiled, doe eyed.

Sansa smiled in response and although grateful for her advice, thought that those actions were obvious suggestions.

"Orrrr... Just tell him you crave his cock" Agatha interjected. All four women fell about laughing once again.

Sansa managed a few words after her laughter abated. "I can't tell Jon that".

"Can't tell me what"? A voice came from behind her, beside her ear. Sansa yelped. Jon had obviously felt the jovial atmosphere of the gathering and entered the hut. He was bent down, inches behind her ear, both hands clasped behind his back, he was smiling at the women's laughter and looked as though he wanted in on the joke.

"Oh! Jon!.... Um"

"Now my Grace, what sort of community would this be if we were to blab each woman's secrets to their husbands"? Magg clicked her tongue and shook her head at Jon.

"My wife has secrets ay?" Jon said playfully, straightening up, his hands still clasped behind his back "nothing bad I hope"?

"Oh no, your Grace! They're good" Agatha said "very very good.... Possibly the best kind of secret she could keep". She added with a glint her eye and a wide grin on her lips".

Sansa gave her a warning glare. Jon looked amused but confused. Agatha raked her eyes over Jon, assessing him for something.

"You know Sansa..." Agatha continued despite Sansa's heated eyes and rapidly reddening face "I don't think you will need those extra carrots after all......no - I reckon you've got all the ingredients you need at that castle of yours" she teased, her eyes never leaving Jon - who looked thoroughly confused and a little uncomfortable.

******

"Jon"? Sansa started whilst on the ride back to Winterfell "Mother and Father were in love weren't they"?

Jon cleared his throat before answering "err... Yes... Yes they were".

"Hmmmm......and did it make you feel better when you found out that Rhaegar and Lyanna were in love instead of the rumours about Father bedding a woman he did not love"? She asked.

"I....I suppose it did. Yes".

They rode in comfortable silence for the rest of the way, Sansa noticed Jon taking lots of small glances in her direction. She blushed as the Wildlings words replayed in her head.

*******

The castle was asleep as Sansa stood in front of her mirror in her lightest night shift - an ivory silk piece with lace detail that skimmed her curves in what she supposed was a pleasing way. It came to just below her knee and was totally impractical for the North - it had been a wedding present sent from one of the great houses of Dorne. So far, it had gone unused.

_Yes. This will do I suppose._

Sansa combed her hair but left it loose instead of her normal braid. She dabbed some lavender oil on her wrists and behind her ears before finally pinching her cheeks into a pleasant blush.

_Alright. You can do this._

She slung her robe over her silk shift and opened the door to hers and Jon's shared adjoining solar. Padding across the stone floor barefoot, she softly tapped on the door to Jon's chamber. Nothing. Of course he would be asleep. She tried again, a little harder this time.

"Jon"? She called through the door.

"Sansa"? He responded, his voice thick with sleep and confusion.

Sansa turned the doorknob and padded into his room. It was dimly lit and he was just sitting up, in the middle of the large bed in the Lord's chambers.

"What's wrong?...is the babe alright?" He sounded a little frantic.

Sansa shook her head but couldn't respond any further. She hadn't bargained on the fact that Jon slept without a nightshirt. On their wedding night he'd worn one, and Sansa now realised that he must have done that for her comfort.

He was sat staring at her with concern on his face, his furs had slipped to his waist and Sansa drank in the sight of the hard muscle of his chest, shoulders and arms. His body was littered with scars and once again Sansa was reminded of his battles and past troubles. Her breath caught in her throat, her mouth began to water and she felt a tingling sensation between her legs.

_The plan Sansa! The plan! Stop gawking!_

"I...err....I had a night terror Jon... Can....can I sleep with you?...Please?....I don't feel safe on my own".

Jon cleared his throat before speaking "ah...yes...of course" he said, scooting over to give her room.

Sansa smiled at him and removed her robe. Jon's eyes practically bulged out of his head as they drank in her barely covered body. He audibly gulped and grasped at the furs. Sansa turned to fold and gently place her robe on the chair beside the hearth. She allowed herself a secret smirk.

_THAT was a good reaction._

"Thank you Jon... Your so good to me". She smiled as she slid beneath his furs. They smelt of him and it was wonderful. She wanted to bury her face in his pillow and inhale deeply but instead she moved closer to Jon who was intently staring at the ceiling.

"Could you hold me? I feel safe when you hold me" she smiled at him.

"Ah...if... If that's what you want... Yes".

Sansa tucked herself into him, under his outstretched arm, her body flush against his side. She could feel his warmth through the slip slide of the thin silky fabric - the only barrier between her breast and the side of his impressive torso. She pushed her chest into him and wondered if he could feel her stiffened nipples through her shift. Sansa nuzzled into his chest and neck, savouring his scent at its source. Lightly draping her arm over his chest, she could feel the fast thrum of his heart beneath the muscle. She let out a quiet contented sigh. Jon let out a shaky breath.

"Goodnight Jon"

"Good...goodnight Sansa".

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok sorry (not sorry) for where this left off ;)


	4. Night Time Activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep the momentum going with this fic....

Sansa awoke from the building hot, pleasurable sensation at her cunny. She was foggy headed, and not yet comprehending where she was or what she was doing. She slowly began to realise that her hips were moving of their own accord, and that she was rubbing herself against something hard and warm - the friction was delightful... Her shift must have bunched up to expose her flower to whatever it was she was rocking against.

She wanted to stay in that state - deliciously numb from sleep and the lovely feeling of a building peak. She felt intoxicated - maybe she was? She couldn't taste wine or ale on her tongue so before breaking the heady spell she was under, she explored her other senses. She could hear ragged breaths and the rustling of bedsheets - that's her breath isn't it? And the rustling - that's from her movements surely? Next, she inhaled and was hit by that familiar comforting scent - Jon.

She remembered now, she'd planned on sharing his bed with him, to lay close to him and test her repressed seductive skills - to see if he would touch her as she desperately wanted him to. What happened? She recalls pressing her body against him but nothing else. She must have fallen asleep - drunk on the smell of him and the comfort he gave.

And now... Now she was rubbing herself against him - one of her legs entwined with his as she rocks against his muscular thigh. She should stop, she knows this as she's climbing out of her sleepy mist, reaching for lucidity, but her body doesn't want to. It feels too good - to be alleviating the ache she'd carried around for days now whilst being surrounded by him - his strong arms, hard muscle and steady breaths. But they weren't steady - his breaths - they were ragged... He wasn't asleep, as she'd expected him to be.

She reluctantly swam to the surface of her sleep to piece together the remaining puzzle pieces.

Jon was breathing heavy and uneven, his arm that was wrapped around her was taught and led down to his hand fisted in her silk shift at her hip. The rustling continued even though she had slowed her movements in her confusion - she wasn't the cause of it. She noticed it then - the slight rhythmic jostle of his body.

Sansa slowly opened her eyes where her face was buried in the crook of Jon's neck. She was met with a prominent tendon under his reddened skin and the bob of his Adam's apple as he took a gulp. His head tilted back, exposing his throat to the night air.

Sansa chances a glance up at his face - or what she could see of it from this angle. All she could make out was his slack parted lips as his heavy breaths continued. She lowered her eyes down his body, past his rising and falling chest to where she sees rapid movement under the furs.

_Oh!_

Sansa's hips still suddenly in her realisation and like a chain reaction, Jon stops all movement, his grip on her shift loosens and he's holding his breath.

_He knows I'm now awake._

Too shocked to do anything, Sansa concentrates on her own breathing, willing herself to inhale and exhale deeply and slowly all the while her pulse is hammering the same way Jon's heart is beating rapidly under her hand as it rests on his chest.

Jon lets out a long slow exhale. "Sansa"? He whispers. She can tell that he's hoping for no response - probably silently praying that she's still deep in slumber and ignorant of what he's been doing while she sleeps. She doesn't answer him, deciding to give him his peace.

_Am I any better? I was getting satisfaction from him in my sleep.....but I have these insatiable cravings!... Perhaps this is what it's like to be a man? To feel like this ALL THE TIME? To constantly have a part of your mind searching for a route to your release?_

Sansa decides to urge him on by slowly beginning to rub against his thigh again. Only after she starts moving once more does she realise how wet she is - so wet she must surely be dampening his sleeping breeches.

"Fuck" Jon whispers to himself and his hand begins to move again under the furs. His other hand smooths out over her hip instead of gripping the silk this time, and she feels his gentle pushes - urging her to carry on rocking.

Sansa wonders if he really does suspect her to be asleep - for surely he would realise that she would not act in such a way whilst awake?

_But you are awake Sansa, you silly girl..... Very awake and very worked up._

Her peak comes sooner than expected, and she is somehow able to muffle her reaction into Jon's neck as white shapes danced across her closed eyelids and her cunny fluttered delightfully.

She's still once more - although breathing a bit heavily. This time Jon does not stop his own ministrations - he's close.

When he spills Sansa can feel him try to lean away from her to avoid messing her with his seed. His whole body jerks as he tried desperately to silence his grunts and panting breath.

After a while of just laying there together, Jon's panting fading and Sansa's throbbing cunny abating, she feels his head move from one side and then to the other. He then lifts the furs to survey his mess.

"Shit" he whispers - once again to himself.

Sansa concludes that he's looking for something to wipe himself with and having no luck.

_Didn't think that one through did you Jon Snow?_

With a giggle forming in her belly and threatening to escape, she pretended to sleepily roll away from him, to afford him some space to move and sort out his mess.

********

Jon had left his chambers before Sansa woke in the morning and she wonders if he'll try to avoid her today. Something wicked inside her decides not to let him.

During the day, Sansa wonders if it was her that affected him so in the night - causing him to take himself in hand? Or was it just the feel of a woman pressed up to his side, rocking her cunny against him in the night? Did it matter that it was his wife? Would any woman do?

Sansa knew Jon was handsome, and she knew other women looked at him in that way. This knowledge had never affected her much before - she'd not dwelt on the notion that he could take a mistress and in truth, the thought would not have bothered her all that much before. But now - now she bubbled with jealousy at these fictional women in Jon's bed - taking what is hers.

She eventually found him in Maester Tarly's library, talking leisurely with his old friend. When she entered with light steps, he had not noticed her and she took a moment to take him in in his relaxed state. Sat slouched in his chair with both legs propped up on the table, stretched out before him, crossed at his ankles. His strong arms raised and bent behind his head of inky curls where the fingers of his large hands laced together. Yes, he was an impressive sight and Sansa's smallclothes suddenly felt rather damp.

"Good afternoon" she interrupted their informal banter.

Jon near jumped out of his seat at the sound of her voice. He stood up straight and cleared his throat.

"G-Good afternoon Sansa" he said red-faced.

Sam looked at him curiously before greeting Sansa.

"To what do I owe this visit your Grace"? The kind Maester asked "is all well"?

"Oh yes Sam, thank you" Sansa mimicked Jon in his informality with the Maester "I just wanted to ask you a few things... About possible side ailments of the pregnancy... If you have the time".

"Oh yes, yes!...please - sit your Grace" Sam said eagerly, gesturing to an empty chair next to the one Jon had vacated.

"I'll...erm... I'll take my leav-" Jon started, nervously.

Sansa caught his arm and curled her small hand around his bicep before speaking. "Oh no, please stay Jon.... I've hardly seen you at all today" she beamed up at him and squeezed his arm.

"I just thought your discussions....might be....delicate". Jon protested weakly.

"No, no - not at all....besides, it is your babe I carry...I'd like you to be involved as much as possible....if you'd like to be"? She squeezed his bicep once more. Jon smiled at her with an earnest look in his eye.

"Aye....I'd like that Sansa" he gulped.

Jon allowed her to guide him back to his seat before she took the one next him and smoothed out her skirts in her lap.

"So what ails you your Grace"? Sam urged her.

_Oh nothing! Just the overwhelming need to ride my husband like he's some kind of bucking stallion._

Sansa briefly wondered if she's been spending a little too much time with the Wildling women? She flushed a little before answering.

"Sam, please call me Sansa. If you're going to be helping me through the intimacy of childbirth then I think we can be on first name terms with each other".

"Oh...yes....quite....Sansa" Sam tried out her name as he blushed a little.

Sansa felt Jon bristling next to her - was he not pleased with the intimacy his wife would now have with the Maester - his own friend? Sansa found the notion interesting and she stored it away to think of later.

"Well I've been having very vivid dreams lately - could they be down to the pregnancy"? Sansa asked sweetly, her hands clasped together in her lap.

"Oh yes....active dreams are a common occurrence for women in your condition...tell me...Sansa....are they bothersome? Your dreams"? Sam enquired kindly.

"Yes... Sometimes they are frightful"! She lied "the one I experienced last night was terribly bad, but Jon kindly comforted me and the dream turned....pleasant". She glanced very briefly at her husband and flashed him a quick thankful smile before returning her attention back to the Maester who fidgeted a little in his chair. Sansa wondered what kind of 'comfort' Sam was imagining Jon gave her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jon stroke his own thigh - the thigh she rubbed herself against she mused.

"Ah...well...yes..." Sam bumbled "I could offer you a few herbs that would induce a deeper sleep - one without such dreams...but...I believe if you can find relief from your night terrors by other means....then perhaps you should....ah....proceed down that route"? Sam was well and truly scarlet red now "of course the herbs are always an option should the dreams get worse".

Both men seemed thoroughly embarrassed now - Sam from his imagined methods of comfort he thought Jon might be giving her, and Jon from knowing what his friend was thinking....and perhaps guilt from what he actually did do last night?

Sansa should feel abashed. She should have felt the need to clarify that the comfort she speaks of was not carnal in nature but she didn't. She feels emboldened and slightly amused.

Sam cleared his throat "um...is that all...for the time...Sansa"?

"Well actually Sam, my joints are bothering me slightly.... They ache you see" Sansa added.

"Oh well - there are a few things you can do to alleviate those pains" he began "take gentle walks".

"Oh yes - Jon takes me on many walks" Sansa interrupted, giving herself the excuse to touch his arm again.

"Good, good....also, soaking in warm water - not too hot - will help"

"Like the hot springs"? Sansa interrupted once more.

Sam chuckled "I was thinking of baths but yes, the hot springs would work". He smiled at Sansa.

"Oh Jon - could we go to the hot springs this afternoon? We've not been swimming together since we were children". She pleaded with him, turning her innocent feminine charm on him in full force.

Jon licked his lips and was mesmerised by her doe eyes, he nodded - seemingly unable to form words. His hand subconsciously went to his thigh again.

"I also recommend massage" Sam interrupted Jon and Sansa's gazing at one another.

"Massage"? Jon asked, turning back to his friend.

"Yes, I have some basic oils here with me - I could give Sansa a daily massag-". Sam's words cut short as he looked at Jon.

Sansa saw her husband lean forward on the table with a heavy warning in his face. Sansa had never seen him look so murderous at his old friend. And apparently neither had Sam as he stuttered through his next comment.

"Or.....or...I c-could instruct one of your maids to help with...that...your Grace". Sam regressed back to formality towards Sansa.

Jon gave Sam a quick, short nod. Sansa felt like giggling at her husband's display of possessiveness - she'd never seen Jon like that before. Was it the babe? Did he feel protective over her or the babe? Or both? It didn't matter - she liked it either way - maybe a but too much as she felt a tingle at her cunny.

Jon escorted her from the Maester's tower. Sansa did as Bridgette suggested, and tucked herself close to his side.

"If I.....ah.....that is.....if you want me to.....become more involved....would you like me to attend your gatherings with the Free Folk women"? Jon asked tentatively.

Sansa burst into a fit of giggles, Jon looked confused but amused at her outburst.

"Oh Jon"! She placed her palm on his chest "they'd eat you alive"!

Jon looked relieved before joining in with her laughter.

"Can we go swimming now" she asked coyly once they'd calmed.

Jon swallowed thickly before nodding.

 

 


	5. Hot Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little interlude in Jon's POV so we can see what's going on in that noggin of his :)
> 
> Sorry it's short!

JON:

Jon slowed their steps on their way to hot springs. He needed time to think - to think of excuses not to enter the warm waters with his wife.

_Perhaps I could protest that I have appointments to attend to and that I've not the time to dry? Or that I should guard her modesty from anyone who might happen upon us, and can do that better out of the water? Pathetic._

Sansa seemed to squeeze him closer to her with each step they took in silence. Jon's throat felt dry.

He needed to avoid situations like these. It was easily done before - easy to pretend that he felt nothing above familial affection and duty towards his wife. They'd become great friends and Jon did not want to ruin that by indulging in the urges he felt. For a short period, he believed that that's just what they were - urges and nothing more. During that period, he'd briefly contemplated sating his 'appetite' elsewhere, but the notion passed as soon as it had formed in his head. He just couldn't bring himself to do that to Sansa. His Sansa.

Celibacy was easy at The Wall, surrounded by his brothers, the nearest women a few leagues away. But here? With her? He'd had to constantly remind himself that Sansa felt nothing beyond family affection for him - that she saw their marriage as a duty and nothing more - to stop himself from claiming her lips with his own and pushing her up against a wall, a tree, onto a desk or a feather bed. Many different scenarios - many different dreams.

She deserved better - deserved the husband she had dreamt of as a young girl - not the scarred bastard cousin who lusted after her. Who was meant to be dead and burnt some moons ago.

Was it the belief that they would never have the kind of relationship that he yearned for that made him want her more? Jon had never felt like this before - not even with Ygritte.

The wedding night was simultaneously the best and the hardest night of his life. She'd felt so, so good he'd had to stare fixedly at the headboard for fear of lasting nearly seconds with her - the realisation that that is probably what Sansa would have preferred was one he tried not to dwell on.

She'd offered him wine that night, and he noted that Sansa had partaken in the drink quite heavily, to help her get through the 'ordeal' - because that's what it was to her, an ordeal, something to endure. It saddened him.

She'd come to him a few moons after their consummation and told him the good news. And it was good news - he'd never thought that would be the case, after a lifetime of fear for fathering bastards, he was genuinely elated. Then he saw it - that look in her eye - relief. She would likely not need him to touch her again. The only thing he could do to disguise his sorrow at this realisation, was to mirror her own emotions back to her.

The weeks where she'd lashed out and snapped at him were the worst. Sam reassured Jon that this was normal, that this was an effect of her rapidly changing body - but it still hurt him to think that his mere presence irritated her. Some days he swore that Sansa even hated the way he breathed.

But this - this was new.

Sansa had been stealing glances at him. He knew this because he was nearly always watching her. He couldn't help it - it had become second nature. She'd also smiled and touched him a lot more - his arms, his shoulder, his chest.... His thigh.

Jon had tried to bury the memory of last night deep down - to where it could not be unearthed again. But it was futile. He felt the ghost of her body flush against his side, the silky softness of not only her shift, but her hair that draped across his arm.

She had been soft and warm against him - more of her touching him that night than there had been when they conceived their babe.

He tried to ignore her breath on his skin as she nuzzled his neck. He tried to ignore he feel of her teats pressed against him and he tried to ignore how his heart hammered in his chest beneath her hand - her touch causing a white hot sensation in his blood.

But one thing he could not ignore was when she snaked one leg over his and began rocking against his thigh in her sleep. He tried - by the Gods - did he try!

Painfully hard, he'd taken himself in hand while his wife slept. He feels as though he could perish from shame - and now it seems the Gods see fit to punish him for it.

His punishment coming in the form of more possible nights of temptation if Sansa's nightmarish dreams keep appearing, forcing her to run to him for comfort.

Jon deemed that this was part of his punishment too, as they'd reached the hot spring.

Sansa flashed him a smile over her shoulder as she stood before him - a smile that will no doubt play on his mind for days.

"Could you help with my dress Jon? It laces at the back". Sansa pulled her braid to one side, baring the opal skin of her neck. He wanted nothing more than to place soft whispering kisses and licks on that skin - he often wondered how she tasted.

Clearing his throat nervously, he moved to untie the bodice of her dress - mentally reciting some of the names of House Stark's most ancient Lords and Kings to keep his mind from wandering and urging his hands to follow suit.

"All done" Jon said as he stepped away from her quickly and with a shaky breath, turning his back to her as she began disrobing.

_Gods give me strength!_

Jon heard the heavy fabric of her skirts hit the ground and some movement behind him.

"You can turn around Jon" Sansa said with amusement in her voice.

As he turned, Jon took in the sight of his wife with her simple cotton shift bunched up to the top of her alabaster thighs and one leg propped on a boulder. She began peeling her stocking down one leg whilst humming an innocent tune to herself.

_What are you trying to do to me woman?!_

"I haven't been in the hot springs in so long" Sansa made casual conversation as she shed herself of the second stocking. Jon felt a slight stiffening in his breeches and prayed he had the resolve to keep his hands off of her.

"Mhmmm" he mumbled into the sky as kept his gaze upwards and away from temptation.

Keeping his eyes occupied with anything but his wife, Jon heard the movement of water followed by Sansa's low satisfied groan. A tingle shot down Jon's spine at the sound.

"Are you not joining me Jon"? Sansa asked.

"I...." Jon's half hearted excuses died in his throat when he caught sight of his wife. The water came up to her ribs but she had obviously previously dunked her body in up to her shoulders because all of her shift was soaked. Soaked and now transparent.

Jon gulped as he tried and failed to keep his eyes away from her breasts. The wet cotton fabric was clinging to her perfect plump mounds. The sight of Sansa's nipples made Jon's mouth water.

"Come on"! She encouraged while turning to swim to the opposite end of the spring.

It seemed he had no choice as he numbly shucked his clothing down to his breeches and smallclothes and descended into the warm waters. Sansa let out a pleasured hum as she sat at a ledge and let her head roll back, enjoying the warmth of the water.

"Better"? Jon asked as he waded towards her and purched next to Sansa.

"Yes, much! Thank you" Sansa said, opening her eyes and bringing her head back down and to the side to look at Jon. Her eyes were bright and her face was flushed from the warmth of the Spring. Jon nodded and decided to adopt the position that Sansa had just abandoned - turning his face skyward and closing his eyes. He could tell she was still looking at him so fought the urge to fidget.

"What"? Jon finally asked, lifting one eyelid to see that Sansa was intently staring at him with a smile on her face.

"Oh....I was just...thinking" Jon noticed Sansa snap her face away from him.

"What about"? He said softly.

"About the baby" she responded, her arm moved and Jon supposed she was stoking her stomach under the water. Jon smiled.

"What about the baby"? He pushed in a gentle voice.

"I'm wondering what they will look like.... Will they have your eyes or mine"? She smiled down into the water "I hope they have your curls".

"Really"? Jon couldn't help but mimic her smile.

"Yes, my straight hair is so boring.... I like your hair" Sansa's grin grew wider as she turned to Jon.

Jon snorted "nothing about you could ever be boring Sansa"! She beamed at him in response.

_Gods you are perfect!_

Jon cleared his throat to clear his mind "I hope the babe takes after its mother" he said, looking straight ahead, trying to avoid Sansa's beautiful face. Somehow he knew that she would be gracing him with that smile she had that makes his stomach turn in knots.

_I don't deserve someone like you._

"What do you think fath-....your father would make if all of this"? Jon said after a while of silence.

"All of this"? Sansa parroted in query.

"...of you being with child"? Jon asked in a tentative small voice.

"He'd be happy - He always knew I wanted to become a mother".

"Even..... Even though the child is mine"? Jon asked softly and almost too quietly.

"Of course!... Why do you ask that Jon"? Sansa reached under the water for his hand.

"You were born to wed a highborn....a prince...a Lord...a knight-".

"A King" Sansa interjected, squeezing his hand.

"A bastard King Sansa. He would have wanted you to have everything you ever yearned for - someone who could twirl you gracefully in dance, write pretty poetry and serenade you with sweet songs".

"I did want those things - when I was a stupid little girl who didn't know the world. Father never wanted those things for me though". Sansa said, waiting for Jon to look her in the eye. "Father wanted for me to be with someone brave, loyal and kind - if you're not the embodiment of those words Jon - then I don't know who is.....Yes - he would be happy.... Happy and proud that we're fulfilling our duty to our house". She said with conviction.

 _Duty. This is more than duty for me_.

They sit there for quite sometime in silence after that, enjoying the warmth of the water.

"Jon"? Sansa enquired suddenly.

"Hmmm"?

"Sam said that massage could help....." She said in a leading voice.

"Uh...yes....shall we...get out and find one of your maids"?

"No, no.... I don't want to get out yet" Sansa smiled "could you?..... It's my hips you see".

"Aaaah.... I.... I don't really know how......I might hurt you.....You'd be better off with-"

"You wouldn't hurt me Jon" Sansa interrupted "I just feel the need for a bit of pressure on my lower back and hips" she explained while motioning a kneading movement with her thumbs. "......please"?

_I can't say no now. Fuck._

Jon nodded, his throat feeling too thick to form words.

"Thank you"! She beamed.

_That smile again._

Sansa turned so that her arms rested on the side of the Spring. She folded them and settled her head to one side on top of them as she pushed her bottom out and up slightly.

_Gods!_

"Just hold my hips and knead inwards with your thumbs" Sansa instructed.

Jon slowly moved to be behind her. Sansa's shift - now practically clear from being soaked - did little to hide her smallclothes that clung to the curves of her arse. He did as Sansa instructed with cautious hands, unable to stop images of him taking her from behind from flashing into his consciousness.

Even with her shift still on, the curve of her hips felt right in his rough hands.

"Mmmm... Harder please Jon". Sansa moaned.

Jon felt all the blood rush to his cock at the sound of her voice and the way the words sensually fell from her mouth.

"...better..."? Jon croaked in an uneven voice.

"Mmmm.... Better" she confirmed whilst tilting her hips, making the roundness of her buttocks known to him.

_I'm doing this for her comfort. Nothing else. NOTHING. ELSE._

Sansa continued to make appreciative moaning noises that Jon was sure he would replay in his mind whenever he took himself in hand when he suddenly heard someone approach the Hot Spring.

"Your Grace, your Grace" the young squire nervously nodded at both Jon and Sansa. Jon instantly moved to use his body as a protective shield in front of Sansa - blocking the young lads view of her body on display. "Sorry to interrupt you.... But Ser Davos is looking for you my King".

"Very well. Tell him I will meet him in the council chambers after I have changed" Jon said sternly, a little annoyed and a little relieved.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Last chance - Teats and Arse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's final attempt to coax Jon! 
> 
> Sansa's POV

_If this doesn't work then I don't know what will._

Sansa stood in front of her mirror, admiring the small swelling of her stomach. She wore nothing but her best silk smallclothes and matching stockings - they were very pale sky blue with baby pink bows.

She supposed her legs looked long and her breasts looked perky and ample. Sansa thought that they may be getting slightly bigger as they had begun to feel heavier than before. She was sure Jon had noticed the changes in her body. She'd caught him looking at her waist and chest quite a bit - it wasn't all his own fault though, as she'd taken to bending down in front of him often to afford him a better view of her cleavage.

Sansa was almost sure she'd seen desire in his glances and stares but try as she may, she could not coax him to act upon them. Perhaps she was wrong?

Sansa often thought of the afternoon at the hot spring - some two weeks ago now. The memory of his strong hands on her hips as he stood behind her bent over figure had been driving her crazy and plagued her dreams. Only in her dreams, there were no clothing barriers between them and Jon used his hands to pull her back into him where his hard length entered her gratifyingly as he thrusted and grunted out filthy, lustful words about how he'd been wanting to do things to her body for so long.

Those wanton words bounced around her head for most of her waking days - leaving her thoroughly distracted and thoroughly frustrated.

Unfortunately, she'd not been able to convince Jon to massage her again - even when arguing that her maids touch was too light and she needed a firmer pressure - he'd manage to find an excuse to leave the room hastily.

Sansa had even continued stealing away into his bed, feigning night terrors. Jon of course would let her sleep with him and would hold her when she asked, but come morning, he'd obviously released himself from her embrace sometime during the night and migrated back to the edge of his large bed.

So here she was - last chance. Echoes of Agatha's words in her head. She'd originally thought them ridiculous and said in jest but 'just show him your teats and arse' seemed to be the only option left to her.

Her plan was simple. Invite Jon to her chambers in the late afternoon under the pretence that she wished to sup with him in privacy due to fatigue. He'd enter her rooms to find Sansa practically naked before him. Of course she'd feign surprise and innocence - claiming and was just looking for changes in her growing body..... And hopefully he'd do the rest.

Her imagination had fabricated many resulting scenarios - Jon being so taken with her nakedness that he strides confidently into the room and picks her up to throw her onto the bed, or push her roughly against the wall, or bend her over her writing desk. Sansa's pretty smallclothes were already soaked.

Sansa had originally thought to keep her braid in, leaving her breasts completely bare. But, now that she was going through with this slightly terrifying plan, Sansa felt uncomfortable. So she unbound her hair and let the wavy locks drape gown her back, shoulders and chest - leaving her hardened pink nipples peeking through the strands of copper red.

She didn't have much time to survey her body again before she heard a soft knock on her door followed by the unmistakeable voice of Jon calling her name. She bit her lip in anticipation as her pulse quickened and she willed her cheeks not to turn a deep shade of crimson.

She did not answer him, instead squeezing her eyes shut while her heart hammered in her chest.

_Just please open the door Jon. Please touch me._

Sansa was in position, facing the mirror. Jon would have full view of her and she prayed that her nervous shaking was not too visible. She heard the handle turn and the door click open. Sansa opened her eyes and readied herself to pretend to be shocked.

"Sans-" Jon stood in the doorway utterly spellbound by the sight in front of him. His eyes drank her in hungrily and she could have sworn she witnessed him make to move forward before stealing himself and rocking back on his feet.

"Oh! Jon!.... I'd forgotten you were coming....I'm sorry" she lied after realising he was not going to stride confidently into the room and take her. Sansa moved her arm to cover her breasts.

"No, no... I'm sorry... I should have... I'll leave you" Jon said hastily as he managed to pull his eyes away from her body and lower them to the floor. He was about to leave and close the door when Sansa stopped him.

"No Jon...come feel the babe". She managed to say before he escaped completely.

"....I....I can get you your robe if you like? Or come back when you've had time to dress"? Jon gulped.

Sansa plastered her face with a false smile of confidence before speaking. "Don't be silly... I'm your wife". She motioned with her free hand for him to move forward.

Jon took slow steps as if approaching a startled animal. Sansa encouraged him with an outstretched hand waiting to take his and plant it firmly on her exposed belly.

Jon's large hand was trembling slightly as it splayed across her small bump. He pressed ever so lightly so Sansa placed her own hand atop his and pushed to increase the pressure - she did this do that he could feel the firmness of her womb and to show that she was not some delicate little bird made of glass.

Sansa saw how his chest rose and fell with his breaths but she wasn't sure if it was from elation, anticipation, lust, fear or...revulsion?

"Can.....can you feel the babe move"? He asked uncomfortably.

"I'm not quite sure....every now and again I feel a fluttering sensation....I'm not sure how long until I feel him or her for certain". She answered truthfully.

"Somewhere between now and the end of this moons turn" Jon answers matter-of-factly. Sansa looked up to his face in confusion. "I...ah....I may have borrowed a book from Sam.... After you said you wanted me involved I didn't want to be ignorant to what would be happening to your bod-......to you". Jon averted his eyes away from her again.

"That's very sweet Jon... Thank you" Sansa replied genuinely a little choked at his admission.

_I wonder if it mentions anything in that book about me going insane if you don't bed me soon?!_

Sansa felt brave enough then to drop her arm that was covering her breasts. She leant towards him and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, feeling the surprisingly warm leather of his jerkin against her teats. Jon took in a sharp breath.

Sansa then boldly swiped her hair away from her chest, leaving her breasts in full view. Her chest heaving in anticipation.

Jon's eyes widened and he licked his lips as he looked down at Sansa, he seemed to instinctively move closer to her. His free hand found its way to the small of her back as the one splayed across her belly seemed to move ever so slightly higher on her abdomen before stopping.

Sansa drew her bottom lip in and her cunny tingled as her mind swam with all the things she wanted Jon to do to her.

She thought she saw her own desire mirrored in Jon's expression but as soon as she recognised it, it was gone and replaced by something else - guilt?

All of a sudden, Sansa felt Jon withdraw the warmth of his hands on her as if he was a horse that had been spooked. He backed away quickly and mumbled an apology along with an excuse to leave.

Before Sansa knew it, she was alone again, the ghost of Jon's touch still on her bare skin. The room suddenly felt incredibly cold, as she stood there in front of the mirror.

Her tears fell quickly out of frustration and confusion.

_Does he still see me as his sister? Does he truly not see me as his wife? Or is it that he is just not attracted to me at all?_

Sansa's mind went to their one and only coupling once more - their wedding night. Jon's fixed stare at the headboard.

_I've no doubt he was thinking of her now.... If not her then someone else._

Sansa forewent any food that evening and crawled as she was, in silk smallclothes and stockings under her furs. She sent her maids away when they knocked. She did not add logs to her fire when it died down to embers and ash. She did not even sleep.

 


	7. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa comes to realise what she has to do.

"Everything!.....I've tried everything.... He just....he doesn't see me that way" Sansa said sadly into the fire. She was back in Old Magg's hut with Bridgette and Agatha. Agatha had recently birthed a healthy baby boy who was currently suckling at its mothers breast.

Sansa would rather not be talking about the situation between her and Jon and kept trying to steer the conversation towards Agatha's new bundle of joy. Agatha was having none of it.

"I doubt there's a man alive who doesn't see you that way Sansa.... Especially if you're offering it up"! Agatha said before swapping her babe from one breast to the other. "And he definitely saw your bare body"?

"Well....yes....my...." Sansa motioned towards her chest, unable to voice the word.

"Teats" Agatha supplied. Sansa nodded.

"Perhaps what you thought you saw in Jon was not love towards me...perhaps it was just affection"? Sansa said almost to herself.

"Oh no....no....I don't think so" Bridgette piped up "he loves you...... I'm sure of it......as a husband loves a wife".

Sansa looked skeptically at the young woman - perhaps she had a head filled with romanticism and that is what's clouding her judgement?

"Bridgette is right my child" Old Magg interrupted Sansa's thoughts on the young woman's naivety "I've witnessed many a couple in love and your husband is no different. Something else is blocking him from acting upon his urges".

"If he has any urges at all" Sansa rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"All men have urges"! Agatha snorted.

"No, no.....there's something holding him back - mark my words" Old Magg said as she stoked the fire.

"He had no problems holding back from his Wildl.....the woman he broke his vows for" Sansa said, not even trying to hide her irritation.

"Perhaps he regrets breaking his vows....perhaps he doesn't want to deepen that regret"?

"But he's no longer held to those bloody vows!" Sansa almost shouted. "He's made new vows.... Vows before the Heart Tree to take me as his wife"!

All three women looked a little taken aback but pleased by her outburst.

"If you can't persuade him to have you soon then I can see you mounting your Jon and leaving him with no choice"! Agatha laughed.

"There is always that" Bridgette concluded with a shrug. Sansa looked aghast at their suggestion. Old Magg shrugged.

_Could I do that?....no...I couldn't....could I? Bloody Jon! If he wasn't so sodding honourable he would have given into temptation and had me by now!.....honour...._

"I.....I.....think he's resisting due to his....honour" Sansa said quietly.

"Honour"? Bridgette and Agatha said in unison.

"Yes" Sansa replied, slowly coming to a realisation "he's convinced himself that I don't want him in that way and he knows I've not had the best experience with men....he would never take me if there was any doubt about what I wanted.....he's not allowing himself to give into temptation". The pieces slowly fit into place in Sansa's mind.

"You kneelers are so fucking complicated"! Agatha snorted once again. "I've said it before.....I'll say it again, tell the man you want his cock"!

Sansa rolled her eyes but then caught sight of Old Magg's sympathetic expression. "Your need for him will only get worse Sansa.... Perhaps you should talk to him....maybe not as bluntly as Agatha has put it, but how is he to know how to help you if you don't ask"? Magg said, taking Sansa's hand. Bridgette nodded.

Sansa didn't like the sound of her 'need' for Jon getting worse - she was already excusing herself several times throughout the day to find privacy to rub herself into a peak. But she also didn't like the sound of outright asking Jon to put her out of her misery. The thought of doing so made her blush to her self profusely.

"Jon....Jon has been reading our Maester's books about pregnancy and birth....would they not mention my....my craving"? Sansa grasped at what little hope she had that he might know - that he might understand - that she wouldn't need to go through the embarrassment of explaining in order to get him to help her.

Magg shook her head "do you really think that kneeler women tell those old men in chains about their increased appetite for their lovers"?

"No...no I suppose not" Sansa felt a little deflated.

_Jon would do anything to help me....he wouldn't want me being left to be uncomfortable......oh Gods! Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to outright ASK him to....to....fuck me?_

Sansa groaned and dropped her head in her hands as the realisation of what she had to do hit her.

_Bloody Jon and his sodding honour!_

**********

Sansa sat at the council table not once listening to what was being said. Possible words and phrases she could use whirring through her head.

She noticed Jon was making an effort not to indulge in his normal glances. She witnessed a few of them - There was still hope that it wouldn't take too much persuading to get what she wanted.

It didn't stop her from dreading the task ahead of her though.

**********

That evening she alternated between pacing back and forth in their shared solar and fidgeting by the hearth, drinking some wine for courage. Sam had told her she shouldn't take too much so she tried to keep herself to one glass but she was already on her second.

Jon would be there any minute, after he'd finished with his meeting with Ser Davos. When her hands weren't clutching at her cup, they were nervously wringing together. The night drew on torturously.

"Sansa" Jon said to himself in surprise at still finding her up as he strode through the door. After the incident in Sansa's chamber they'd both seemed to be avoiding being alone together for the past few days.

"Evening Jon" Sansa said shakily "wine"? She offered.

Sansa knew Jon wanted to decline, wanted to avoid another temptation to taint his honour. She also knew he would not want to offend her as she watched him sit beside her and smile while he took her offered cup.

After an awkward few minutes of them both staring into the fire, Jon cleared his throat to talk. "Are you well my Lady?...is...is all well with the babe"? He asked pleasantly, trying to fill the silence.

"Actually Jon, that's what I wanted to talk to you about". Sansa said nervously, her eyes cast downwards into her lap.

"What...what is it"? Jon asked, fear suddenly creeping into his voice. His eyes darting to her small swollen belly as he edged closer to her on their double seat.

"The babe is fine Jon" she tried to say in a calm voice. "It's.....it's....me" her eyes once again couldnt hold his as the realisation of what she would have to say hit her once more.

"What is it Sansa?....shall I fetch Sam? Can he help"? Jon's voice became slightly frantic.

It may have been the wine, or it may have been the ridiculousness of the images that flashed before Sansa's eyes - the kindly Maester 'helping' her as she now needed that caused her to let out a strange noise - a mixture between a snort and a giggle. Jon looked confused at her sudden outburst.

"No...no Jon.....only one man can help with what ails me". She said, trying to meet Jon's eyes.

Jon's confusion continued "....who..."?

"You" Sansa felt her face aflame as she bit her lip, not wanting to voice the next part of their conversation.

"I.....I'll help you anyway I can Sansa but I'm no Maester".

"You've been reading the books that you borrowed from Sam"? She enquired.

"Yes, but I hardly think that qualifies me to - " Jon was interrupted when his attention was pulled to Sansa's hand that came to rest on his knee.

"Well not everything about women is written in books, held in dusty libraries and poured over by Maesters Jon". Sansa tried to keep her voice even.

"Sansa, I don't understand". Jon said honestly. Sansa smiled.

"Could you consider that there are some things that a woman would consider too....delicate....to speak of with their Maester"? She asked, trying to hold his gaze.

"Yes.... I suppose" Jon gulped.

"Well this is one of those things Jon". Sansa said matter-of-factly.

"And you want my help"?

"Yes...........I have......" She cleared her throat before continuing "I have a........a great craving......a craving that has been torturing me for weeks now".

Jon shifted in his chair. "A craving?..... I can have cook bring anything you wa-".

"No Jon..... Not food or drink....you". She held his confused stare. It was a while before he spoke as Sansa saw his mind working out what she meant.

"Me?......you 'crave' my company"?

"Not just your company Jon" Sansa was met with silence again as her husband tried to piece together the picture in front of him.

"I don't -" he started.

"I wish to lay with you Jon.... As husband and wife..... It's more than a wish....it's a need". The words hung in the air between them.

"You......you crave....coupling...with me"? Jon said, each of his words thick in his throat.

"Very much so" Sansa confirmed as she let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me!!! I need to leave it there because I'm toying with the idea of the next chapter being in Jon's POV - no promises though!


	8. Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can all stop hating me now! Lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon's 'honourable' POV ;)

Trying to blink away the confusion like the fool that he is, Jon still wore a face of uncertainty.

_Am I hearing her properly?_

"You..want me to...to make love to you"? He said unsteadily.

"Yes Jon" Sansa replied, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

_This can't be right. She can't possibly be asking me to do this._

He looked down to the floor and then suddenly pressed the back of his hand to her forehead "are you alright? Do you have a fever"?

Sansa batted him away, irritated but slightly amused. "Jon!.... Do you realise how difficult it is for me to ask you to help me with this"?

Jon's mouth went dry at the thought of being inside her again - and this time knowing she wanted him to be.

"Err..... I.....I don't know what to say Sansa....is this.....common"? He needed time to think, to process what was happening.

"Old Magg said so yes" Sansa replied "she said if I dont ask for your help soon then my suffering would only worsen" She said quietly.

"Suffering"?   
  
The thought of Sansa suffering turned Jon's gut.

"Yes Jon.....have you not been listening?....." She was beginning to get frustrated with him now, he could tell "These past few weeks have been torturous!..... I've been having to frequently hide away several time a day to....to pleasure myself!...I can't concentrate in council meetings....I've had to avoid walking across the courtyard entirely in case you're sparring.... And only the Gods know how I've kept from straddling you in the night when you let me share your bed"! Sansa's words ran away with her and so did her breath as her chest was now heaving from the exertion of her emotions.

Jon's cock became swollen at her words.

_Sansa touches herself - because of me? She's had carnal thoughts - about me?_

It was clear to a now exasperated Sansa that Jon didn't know what to say, so she took the initiative once more.

"Jon" she said seriously, squeezing his leg "will you help me?...I need.... Relief"!

_Gods yes!_

Jon wanted to shout his elation at this very unexpected and exciting turn of events but, still stunned, all he could manage was to nod his head.

He expected Sansa to stand and lead them into one of their chambers. She didn't.

What she did do was instantly reach to untie his breeches, freeing his hardened length. Sansa gave a hungry whine from the back of her throat as she looked at his bared cock.

_Fuck! She does want this!_

She wasted no time in bunching up her skirts and sitting astride Jon's lap. Sansa reached between them and positioned him at her entrance. Jon held his breath as he watched her lower herself onto him. The long, loud groan of relief that fell from her perfect lips as she took him in was the most erotic sound he'd ever heard.

Her eyes were closed in pleasure, her mouth open as she sat still on his lap, seeming to take some time just to enjoy the feel of him inside her. Jon wasn't sure how long he'd last at this rate - she'd not started moving yet and this was already better than any of his fantasies.

"Oh Gods Jon! You feel so good"! Her eyes snapped open after her declaration. Somehow they looked a more vivid shade of blue, even in the dim light of the solar.

Her lips collided with his hungrily. Her delicate tongue was not so delicate in its exploration of his mouth. They groaned in unison as her fingers intwined into Jon's hair, his hands came to her hips and she began rocking back and forth on his cock.

Sansa released Jon's mouth to catch her breath. Her hands went from his hair to gripping the back of his seat as she changed from rocking to bouncing up and down on his cock.

"Seven Hells Sansa... You're so wet" Jon cried.

"All the time..." She replied through panted breath "I've given up wearing smallclothes - I soak them when I'm near you". Jon growled in response, causing Sansa to bite her lip with desire as they watched each other. 

_Shit! I'm really not going to last long._

"Sansa....its....been....too long....I can't last" Jon confessed through gritted teeth and a strained face.

"Then help me" Sansa commanded as she brought one of Jon's hands down and under her skirts. "Use your thumb here".

Jon found her little bud and began rubbing in circles with his thumb, watching Sansa's face for a reaction of pleasure.

"Oh Jon! Yes"! She cried as she resumed her bouncing. She moved her hands to reach out behind her and leant her weight back as she grabbed Jon's knees to prop herself up - changing the angle at which he penetrated her.

Jon felt his need to release nearing and he hoped she was getting closer too. He'd never witnessed her peak before and the mere thought of it was enough to push him over the edge.

"Mmmmmm jonnnn"!

_Fuck!_

He was gone. Lost in the moment that was his wife riding him, moaning his name. As he cried out and pulsed his seed into her he lamented the fact that he'd really not lasted long at all. But as soon as his cries finished, Sansa's begun.

Her movements became jagged bucks as he felt her body tense and seize. Her cunt pulsed around his cock, managing to milk the last of him.

Her head was thrown back and she was panting hard as she leant forwards, hands steadying herself on his heaving chest. Sansa kissed Jon tenderly and then lowered her head to nuzzle his neck.

"Thank you" she whispered as she made no attempt to release him from her cunny.

Their breathing regulated as the fire in the hearth crackled. Jon wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep still perched tight on his lap with him inside her, her hands clinging to his shoulders and her soft breath tickling his skin.

"Sansa"? He ventured.

"Mhmm"

"The other day....when you were practically bare in front of the mirror and asked me to come feel the babe....was that you trying to get me to....." He couldn't quite finish his question.

"Yes" she chuckled.

"....and at the hot spring?...."

"Yes"

"......"

Sansa unfurled from him slightly so she could see his face "what are you thinking"? She asked, a little bit of concern creeping into her words.

"....I'm thinking I've been a fucking idiot".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew.... I hope that was good for you!


	9. Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa interrupts Jon.

"How.......how many times will you...er...have need of me"? Jon panted.

They'd just finished their second session of coupling since Sansa mustered up the courage to ask her husband for what she wanted. This time they'd made it to one of their beds.

Sansa propped herself up on her elbow, lifting her head from his heaving chest. "I won't disrupt your day-to-day duties, if that's what you mean" she smiled.

"Oh no, no!....that's not what I meant....you can....err....interrupt whenever you want" Jon avoided Sansa's eyes, still obviously a bit uncomfortable with the new situation between him and his wife.

Sansa leaned in to kiss him softly. It was strange, considering what they had just done, that this seemed altogether more intimate. Perhaps it was because her 'craving' drove her actions a few minutes ago but this act, this soft, passionate form of affection was entirely Sansa's choosing and not motivated by her need to be satisfied.

Jon's lips moved in time with hers, matching her pace and pressure. He cupped her cheek gently with his scarred hand. Sansa broke away from his lips to kiss his palm.

"How long has it been Jon"? Sansa asked in a silky voice as she rested her head back onto his chest.

"What do you mean"?

"How long has it been since your feelings for me......changed"? She began tracing her fingers over his collarbone.

After a long pause, Jon answered "honestly?........ Since you arrived at Castle Black..... That....that was the start of it".

Sansa lifted her head to throw him a confused look. "But.......our wedding night.....you could hardly look at me"?

"Uh.....nerves I guess....you made me feel like a greenboy again Sansa" Jon confessed shakily.

Sansa blinked rapidly as she comprehended his admission. "I.....I thought you were thinking of someone else....of your Wildling girl".

"What?! No Sansa....I'd never do that" Jon said as he shifted to his side to face her, placing a hand on her jaw and neck, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Sansa practically felt the love radiate from him and for the first time truly believed what the Wildling women had been trying to tell her.

*********

Sansa walked with intent through the hallways. A knowing smile on her lips. She thought of how she'd woken Jon up early this morning - before dawn even. They'd shared a bed and being close to him, being wrapped in his scent must have triggered a hungry need in her that she had to satisfy as soon as she woke. She could still smell him on her now as she strode about the castle.

There was something powerful about coupling with her on top of him she mused, a wicked smirk dancing across her face. It was satisfying to see Jon's look of complete desire and awe as she rode him, not to mention that she could grind on him as she pleased - making sure all the right areas received a delightful amount of attention to ensure her peak.

Sansa looks down at her slightly swollen belly and rubs it affectionately.

_Part of him._

The wide smile she wore could have been seen a mile away.

She had just excused herself from a meeting with a kitchen steward about the planned meals for an upcoming feast - she wasn't entirely sure why she was needed as the menu and supplies had been finalised the previous week. Sansa had planned on escaping to her chambers to relive this mornings events in her mind whist pleasuring herself. She was then reminded of Jon's comment about interrupting his duties - she'd like to put that to the test.

She knew he would be discussing the issue of resettling some Wildlings further south than they had ever settled before, with Ser Davos, Tormund and few representatives of both the Wildlings and the surrounding houses of the proposed locations. The thought of being able to tear him away from such an important meeting sent a delicious sensation all the way down her spine.

Sansa found herself outside the large oak door to one of the council chambers. She raised her delicate hand and knocked softly on the wood.

"Come" bellowed Jon from the other side, using his authoritative commanding voice. If Sansa wasn't wet before, she certainly was now.

Sansa slipped into the room. "Apologies for interrupting your Grace..." Sansa didn't need to voice her excuse, Jon didn't give her time to - as some of the attendees of the meeting were getting up from their seated positions, to acknowledge their Queen, Jon was already out of his seat and halfway to the door.

"Do you have need of me my Queen"? He asked in a low eager voice.

_My, my he is keen._

Sansa bit her bottom lip coyly, a blush forming across her cheeks as she stared up at him through her lashes and nodded slowly.

"Out" he shouted at his guests, even though his eyes never left Sansa's.

"A little more politely Jon" she leant in to whisper. Trying to chide him and not giggle at his enthusiasm.

Jon hesitantly turned to address the members of his meeting. "Apologies gentlemen, can we break to reconvene this afternoon"?

Their shock from being ordered 'out' turned to mumbled agreement as they vacated their seats and ambled out of the room, some stopping to offer congratulations to Sansa on her pregnancy. Jon fidgeted until they were all gone and he could close the door.

"You'll be a very poor King of you continue to allow your Queen to interrupt such important proceedings your Grace" Sansa smirked.

"And what of my performance as a husband my Queen"? Jon asked. He was still stood a few paces from her, staring intently. Sansa noticed his chest rising and falling and his fist clenching and unclenching in anticipation.

 _He's waiting for me. Of course he is_.

As the realisation that Jon, her King, was giving her all the power, all the authority to say when, where and how he is to satisfy her 'cravings' she felt a warmth pool in her belly.

"Do you...do you wish to retire to your chamber"? Jon asked, offering his arm.

Sansa regarded his offered limb for a while before turning and walking slowly towards the large oval walnut wood table.

"Sansa"? Jon called in soft confusion.

Sansa shot a smirk over her shoulder at him as she approached the table. She placed a delicate forefinger on the polished table, elegantly stroking the wood as she began to slowly stalk around the large piece of furniture. Sansa didn't need to look at Jon to know he was watching her every move.

She reached the Kings chair, it's back higher and more intricately carved than the others around the table. Jon's seat was still pulled out away from the table from his haste at meeting Sansa at the door. She skated her finger over the carvings leisurely before perching herself on the tables edge behind her. Sansa heard Jon's breath hitch.

She turned to look at him rooted to the spot by the door, waiting and watching. Sansa raised her feet to the seat on Jon's chair in front of her, at the same time slowly lowering herself to lay flat on the table. "Here" she breathed.

It wasn't an understatement to say that Jon 'bolted' towards her, beginning to unlace his breeches as he went.

"Here"? Jon asked as he paused, standing between Sansa's legs, looking down at her sprawled out in front of him atop the table. "I'll not be able to think of anything else when in this room again" his breathing becoming heavier.

Sansa answers him with a smirk as she reached for her skirts to pull them up to her waist. Jon's hands chased her hem up her legs and stilled when her bare Lady's peach was revealed.

"I told you I don't wear smallclothes anymore" Sansa giggled at Jon's widened eyes.

"Fuck" he whispered and licked his lips, his stare never leaving her cunny.

Before Sansa had time to giggle further, Jon grabbed her legs under her knees, spreading them further apart and bent to lower his face to her centre.

Sansa could no longer see Jon's head from her current angle, her bunched up skirts blocking her view of him. But she felt his breath on her as she was spread open to him. She wasn't entirely sure what he was about to do, but knowing his face was so close to her intimate areas only served to send glorious tingles of anticipation spread right down to her toes.

When Sansa first felt his tongue swipe up her folds, she yelped in surprise.

"Gods you taste good" she heard from between her legs, the feel of his breath at each word making her squirm. Another swipe, this time slower, allowing Sansa to feel the heat from Jon's mouth caused Sansa to moan.

Encouraged, Jon continued to explore her with his tongue. Sansa had never experienced such a thing - she ignored the part of her that said she should be embarrassed at the intimacy of this act and instead concentrated on Jon's perfect mouth - giving her intense pleasure as she began to pant, buck and grasp at her own hair and skirts in an effort to keep her tethered to the earth.

Jon latched his mouth into the little bud that she usually rubs to bring herself to a peak. She squealed as he began to suck and lash at it with his cleaver tongue.

Jon made a low growling noise that sent a vibration right through her body. That was what pushed her over the edge. Her peak was powerful as Jon's mouth never left her nub, she convulsed and shivered laid out before him on that table, crying his name as her head thrashed from side to side.

"What......what was that"?! She panted as Jon rose from between her legs, looking rather pleased with himself, his face flush and glistening with her juices. Sansa thought she should be at least slightly disgusted but instead it made her want him more.

"I don't know the name for it.... I just wanted to taste you is all.....you liked it"? Jon asked even though the answer was already obvious.

Sansa nodded before making an effort to scoot her bottom more towards the edge of the table. Jon suddenly grabbed her hips and pulled her pelvis roughly towards him.

"You still have need of me"? He asked with a raised brow.

"Yes....Gods yes....please Jon" Sansa breathed, anticipating the feel of him filling her.

Jon's pace started slow and gentle but Sansa was so worked up from her previous peak, she needed more. "Harder Jon" she urged him.

Jon growled in response and brought one of her legs up so that her ankle rested on his shoulder, the other still being held in his grasp behind her knee. Jon began thrusting hard enough to jostle her body up and down the table.

The large chamber was filled with their combined heavy breathing, the slap of their flesh, Sansa's cries and Jon's curses.

Sansa wasn't sure if she would be able to peak again so soon after Jon's mouth brought her so much pleasure, but she felt it - the spasms that start deep within her as Jon's pounding became erratic - he was close too.

The feel of his whole body tense as he cried out and spilled inside her ignited her own intense release, her moans mixing with his.

As they catch their breath, Jon now slumped onto Sansa, his head nestled on her chest, Sansa playing with his hair, their heartbeats begin to slow, Sansa begins to curse herself for waiting so long to ask Jon to help her with her cravings.

"You know" Jon begins "I really won't be able to have another meeting in this room.....not without my mind wandering". Sansa laughed softly, making Jon's head bob up and down as it rested on her ribs.

Their attention was then pulled away from one another when the sound of footsteps, chatter and laughter drifted through the closed door.

"Do you think anyone heard us"? Sansa said with a worried face.

"I do hope so" Jon chuckled into her dress. Sansa swatted his shoulder before joining him in his laughter.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it seems the smutfest has begun! I'm not sure how many more chapters I'll add to this - obviously Sansa needs to grow 'large with child' and birth the baby but and other suggestions with where you would like to see this story go will be gratefully received :)


End file.
